Cursed
by Icabu
Summary: *** Grateful for the beta read. All remaining issues are all mine. *** Olympic SWAT finds their beliefs, and their lives, tested. Do you believe ?
1. Chapter 1

As he walked across the street from the convenience store where the hold-up occurred, Olympic SWAT Officer Dom Luca noted that enough of the neighborhood residents had become curious that patrol officers had to tape off the scene. With the action now over, the neighborhood would soon return to normal for most of the residents. He felt it would take a lot longer for normalcy to return for the woman the perp grabbed as a shield. With TJ's well-placed shots, her injuries were solely emotional, but he knew that could be just as bad as physical wounds.

"Helluva shot," Dom said as he met Olympic's marksman TJ McCabe coming out of the grocery store where he'd been stationed on the roof.

Still buzzing on adrenaline, TJ smiled. "That's what the man pays me for." He looked back over his shoulder at the store's roof. Absently, he jingled the two spent .308 shells in his pocket. "Looks like about two hundred meters."

Dom stopped and also did a visual measurement. "Every bit."

Jim Street jogged over to his teammates. "Good job, TJ"

Turning his hat around bill-forward, TJ nodded acknowledgement to Jim. "He didn't give me much of a window, but just enough."

Jim stepped aside as an ambulance roared past, siren blasting and lights flashing. "And he'll be standing trial for armed robbery and taking hostages before long," he said once the ambulance din faded.

"I'd rather get them in front of a real judge and jury than force sentencing out here." TJ hefted his rifle, resting it on his shoulder. "But if they decide to lay down their own law, it doesn't leave us much choice."

"Yeah, that's the worst part of all this," Dom agreed. He gave TJ a congratulatory shoulder shove. "Best outcome we've had in a while."

"Maybe he should've read the papers so he would've known he was out-classed," Jim said.

"Man, don't start with those newspaper articles," said Dom, anger raising his voice.

"Don't worry," TJ said, "we did good this time."

"I'm sure some twerp reporter will twist it around on us," Dom grumbled, "they always do."

"You!"

The three Olympic SWAT officers turned at the shout.

"You shot my grandson." An elderly woman, stooped with age, stepped near the SWAT officers. "All of you should be ashamed of yourselves."

She looked Dominic Luca over studiously. Her sharp and steady gaze lancing from dark eyes set in a face wrinkled like wind weathered stone. "But you – you should know better. I can tell an Italian boy when I see one. How could you betray your own people like this?"

"Ma'am," Dom said calmly, "your grandson was threatening to kill those people. He had to be stopped."

"Pah," the woman spat. "He wouldn't harm a flea. You all backed him into a corner," she waived her frail-looking arms at the convenience store across the street, "he had no way out." She shook her head. "Shame on all of you!"

"Ma'am," Jim said, frustration edging his soothing tone, "our Lieutenant gave your grandson several chances to let the hostages go and come out."

"Just so you could shoot him. He's lucky he grabbed that woman to protect himself from the likes of you. Our streets are no place to play war!" Her voice rose steadily, cracking with emotion.

A patrolman gently corralled the woman and steered her back toward the taped off area. With surprising strength and speed, the old woman spun away from him. With fire in her eyes and a gnarled finger pointing at the three SWAT officers, she let off a string of Italian, finishing with an angry spray of spittle.

Less gentle, the patrolman escorted the woman behind the crime scene tape, giving the SWAT officers an apologetic shrug.

"What the heck was that?" asked TJ.

"Crazy old lady, I'd say," Jim answered, gesturing dismissively.

"She's been reading the papers, though. That bit about playing war is right out of a recent article bashing SWAT," TJ said.

Jim and TJ glanced at the unusually quiet Dom.

"She didn't scare you, did she?" TJ asked Dom.

"Hey." Jim tapped Dom's shoulder, causing the young officer to jump. "What's up with you?"

"I think we were just cursed," Dom said in a hushed tone.

"You recognized those words?" TJ grinned, shaking his head. "Probably lots of women use them when you're around."

"No," Dom said, seriously. "Cursed as in she put a hex on us."

All three men where quiet for a moment, looking in the direction the patrolman had taken the old woman. She'd faded into the crowd.

"You don't believe in that stuff, do you?" TJ asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," Dom said and walked toward the van.

"How about you?" TJ asked Jim.

Jim shrugged. "You?"

"Nah."

TJ and Jim joined Dom, Deke and Harrelson at the van.

"What was all that?" Harrelson asked, scanning the crowd.

"Some old lady claiming the perp that we so wrongly shot was her grandson. Told us not to play war in the street," explained Jim.

"She cursed us," Dom added.

Harrelson shook his head and stepped into the van. "I guess a relative has a right to get angry, even if it's at the wrong people."

"Not angry cursing," Dom explained, "hex cursing."

Just inside the van Harrelson turned, held on at the top of the van's door frame, and looked down at his men. "A hex? She put a hex on you?"

"All three of us," TJ said, motioning to include Jim and Dom beside him.

"You don't believe in hexes, spells and curses, do you, Hondo?" asked Deke.

Harrelson took a deep breath, taking a moment to formulate his answer. "I believe they have the power that an individual gives them. I," he pressed one hand to his bullet-proof vest clad chest, "don't believe they can bring any harm, or luck, to me, so that neutralizes them. Some people allow the threat, or promise, of them to influence their perception of events, resulting in what becomes belief."

"You mean," Jim said, thinking through Harrelson's explanation, "that only if we blame anything that happens – good or bad – on this curse, or hex thing, then that's its power over us?"

"Exactly," Harrelson answered. "Now load up. Whatever happens was going to happen anyway, no matter what the lady said."

As he entered the van, TJ nodded to Harrelson. "That makes sense, Lieutenant. Thanks."

"Don't let that mumbo-jumbo stuff get into your head and you'll be all right," Deke added.

Dom remained quiet during the ride back to Olympic Station.

#######

Changing into his civilian clothes, Jim shouldered into his shirt. "Well, we made it through the day without breaking any mirrors, no black cats crossed our paths …"

"You shouldn't make fun of it," said Dom, cutting off Jim's rant.

"You do believe it," TJ stated.

"I was raised around it, that's all," Dom said, closing his locker. "My grandmother dabbled in it. She was always mumbling and gesturing to ward off evil. Usually we just ignored her." And other times, Dom remembered, she'd scared him silly.

"So, do you believe it?" asked Jim.

Dom sighed heavily, shrugged. "I don't know. I've seen what it can do to people who do believe." He glanced over to Harrelson's office. "But I think like Hondo does – don't believe in it and it can't harm you. That makes sense."

"Makes sense to me, too," agreed TJ.

"But just in case …" Dom pointed at Jim. "… don't make fun of it."

Jim held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll keep my skepticism to myself."

"Hey, isn't Sheri flying in soon?" TJ asked, purposely changing the subject.

Jim smiled broadly. "Tomorrow night, about ten."

"Cool. You two up for a double-date with me and Susan this weekend?"

"Uh, if it's later," Jim said, still grinning. "Like Sunday."

TJ laughed. "All right. I'll check with Susan and let you know."

"Hey, what about me?" asked Dom.

"Didn't what's-her-name dump you last weekend?" Jim asked as the trio of officers headed up the stairs.

"Yeah, but I'm working on two other prospects. I should have one of them hooked by Sunday."

"Well, you let me know if you do and we'll pencil you in," TJ said.

"Make that a permanent marker, not a pencil. I'll call you no later than Saturday so you can make the reservation – for six."

"Sure, Dom," TJ said, "I'll be waiting by the phone for that call."

"You'll see!" Dom yelled as they went to their cars.

Dom let TJ and Jim leave first so they didn't see him turn opposite the way to his apartment. He didn't want them asking any questions, but he had a few to ask his grandmother.

#######

Dom Luca knocked heavily on the wooden door. His grandmother was slightly hard of hearing which amounted to her ignoring whatever she felt like. The frown on her face as she opened the door let Dom know she was in an ignoring mood that his insistent and loud knocking had disturbed.

"What are you doing banging on my door at this late hour, boy?"

"Grandma." Dom smiled his very best family greeting. "A visit from your favorite grandson shouldn't have time limits."

"Humph," Regina Luca grunted, slowly opening the door wider. "I'm an old lady and need my beauty rest."

"Grandma," said Dom, entering her sparkling clean home. "If you're asleep before midnight we'll be taking you to the doctor."

She waved irritably at him. "I keep my own hours." Dropping into an upholstered wing-back chair with a sigh, she added, "What do you want?"

Dom lifted his hands, doing his best to look innocent. They both knew he wouldn't be there at that hour, even though it was only a quarter after nine, without wanting something. But Dom knew he'd soon have her interest.

"Something weird happened today, Grandma," Dom began, sitting in the chair across from her.

"And this surprises you?"

Dom checked his eye roll, knowing his grandmother wanted him to be a doctor – or anything other than a cop.

"Well, this was even weird for police work. Some old Italian lady gave me the Evil Eye after we were forced to shoot her grandson who'd robbed a store and took a woman hostage." He decided to keep TJ and Jim out of the story since they didn't believe in curses anyway. Not that he fully believed in them himself, but he'd grown up around them and at least wanted Grandma Luca's opinion.

"Mal Occhio?" Regina said, hissing the words between clenched dentures. "On my kin – my own son's son?"

"Complete with finger pointing and spit," Dom added, pleased that his purpose was worth the ire of disturbing her evening.

"Who is this witch?"

"Uh, I don't really know. She said the perp was her grandson," answered Dom, shrugging lightly. "She somehow guessed I was Italian and said I should be ashamed." He knew that would rankle her.

Surprisingly spry, Dom watched as his grandmother sprang from her chair and went straight into The Room. The Room, also known as The Witching Room, had terrified Dom and his cousins as kids. Little of that fear had diminished over the years. He stood at the doorway, reluctant to enter her mystic domain.

She emerged shortly, already chanting her prayers in Italian and making sweeping and jerky gestures with her hands as she circled Dom. He stood like a statue, enduring whatever she felt needed to be done. It was for her peace of mind, Dom convinced himself, since he didn't really believe, totally, in the mystic witchery. She finished with a flurry of prayer, spit in her right palm and smacked it to Dom's forehead.

"Wear this." She shoved a round amulet on a silver chain at him.

He briefly studied the hand symbol painted in red before slipping the chain over his head and tucking the protection under his shirt.

"Keep that on for the next ten days. That should be long enough. If you know you'll be around that witch again, make sure you wear that and let me know so I can cleanse her evil off you again. Now get out so I can get some rest."

"Of course, Grandma." Dom pulled the door open, then turned. "And thanks." His hand went to the amulet beneath his shirt. It felt cool against his skin, calming.

"I'm glad you came to me, Dominic. It's important."

Dom nodded to his grandmother and stepped out into the warm night. He smiled as he heard her set the locks on her door behind him. He'd finally convinced her that that was important, too.

Driving back to his apartment, Dom found his thoughts wandering into the mystic realm. Should he feel different now that the curse was removed? Lighter? Cleaner, maybe? He hadn't felt different after the old lady spit the curse at him and he didn't feel much different now. The Lieutenant must be right, he decided. Just ignore it – it was really nothing to begin with. The amulet felt like ice next to his skin and Dom's thoughts turned again. What if …


	2. Chapter 2

"What's wrong with it?" Dom asked, walking up to the work bench beside their lockers.

"Just getting the sand out after the beach training this afternoon," TJ responded as he disassembled his rifle with the swiftness of familiarity.

The light overhead flickered, causing both Dom and TJ to look up. The exploding fluorescent tubes made Dom jump back. Jim leapt out of his chair, hand on the butt of his pistol. TJ's hands flew to his face as he cried out in pain.

Harrelson and Deke ran over as Dom got TJ on the floor, away from the shards of glass.

"What happened?" Harrelson barked.

"The light bulb blew, glass went everywhere," Dom answered, struggling to hold the writhing TJ on the floor.

"Let's get a look, TJ," Deke said, kneeling and pulling at TJ's wrists.

"It's in my eyes," TJ said. "I can't open them."

Harrelson turned around and heard Jim already calling for an ambulance. He turned to Dom. "Are you cut anywhere?"

Dom pulled his attention from TJ. "Uh, no, I don't think so." He ran a hand over his face, feeling no pain or blood smears. "I don't know how, but no, nothing." He frowned, glancing back to TJ.

"Ambulance is on the way," Jim announced, joining the others hovering around TJ.

"Good," said Harrelson.

"I can't see," TJ called out. "I can't see."

"Pull your hands away," Deke instructed. "You don't want to push the glass further into your eyes."

Everyone watched as TJ's trembling hands lowered from his face. Blood smeared across his face from a dozen nicks but the red-stained tears that trickled from the outside corners of his eyes shocked everyone. Dom rocked back on his heels, sitting hard on the floor, visibly pale. Jim remained standing, swayed a little, steadying himself against the wall. Deke grabbed a roll of gauze from the first aid kit.

"I think we should wrap your eyes, gently, to help keep them closed," Deke said. "You okay with that, TJ?"

Swallowing hard, TJ nodded slightly. "Yeah. I don't want to move them." He swallowed again. "I can feel the glass in them."

"I'll help," said Harrelson. He gently lifted TJ's head as Deke wound the gauze around it, carefully covering the young sharp-shooter's eyes.

Dom's hand instinctively went to the amulet his grandmother gave him. He didn't want to blame this on the curse. Surely it was just an accident – a horrible one, but just an accident. But how did he escape without a single nick from all that flying glass? If he'd gotten protection for TJ from his grandmother would the glass have missed him, too? Would the bulb have exploded at all? Dom shook his head to get his thoughts straight. An accident. No such things as curses. He repeated those thoughts like a mantra.

Deke went in the ambulance with TJ. The knots in Jim's stomach tightened when he heard TJ's mumbled 'why my eyes?' as the ambulance attendants loaded him up. A strong sense of dread washed over him as the ambulance faded into the distance. He couldn't think of a worse accident for TJ to have. As their marksman, TJ's eyes were the key to his success. What if his eyes are permanently damaged? What if he lost his sight totally? Jim couldn't answer those questions and he hoped that TJ would not have to either.

#######

"Man, I didn't think he'd ever let us go," Dom groused from the passenger seat of Jim's Mustang.

Jim nodded, but wasn't sure he wanted to go to the hospital. The vision of TJ's bleeding eyes was still too fresh. He wanted to be there to help his friend, of course, but he couldn't shake the heavy feeling that the next several hours, maybe days, were going to be the toughest he'd faced in some time.

Dom let Jim's silence hang as they idled at a stop light. There wasn't much to say when you were going to visit a friend in the hospital with an injury that could possibly end his career. A shiver ran through Dom at just the thought of blindness. He tried to steady his nerves when the light turned green and Jim accelerated them on to their rendezvous.

The split-second of the violent impact from the speeding pickup truck into the driver's side of Jim's Mustang pierced the silence like a pin into a balloon. Settling in his seat after the abrupt, bone-rattling stop, Dom blinked, trying to get his brain to catch up with events. He heard a hissing sound and turned to look out Jim's door window. The crumpled, leaking radiator of the pickup filled the window, hissing foul-smelling steam through the broken glass. Dom registered Jim laying against the unnaturally tilted steering wheel, blood dripping down his face.

"Jim!" Dom called out. He didn't get a response and didn't really expect to. The whole driver's side was pushed in – Jim taking the full, brutal impact. In fact, Jim's seat had been shoved to the side and forward, leaving a very small space for the big man. Dom winced, thinking it might be good that Jim was out cold. Easing his fingers against Jim's carotid, he exhaled a held breath when feeling thumps – Jim was alive.

"You okay, buddy?"

Startled, Dom jerked around in his seat. A cop peered through the Mustang's still intact passenger window. Dom nodded and attempted to open his door. He knew he had to get out so the medics could get to Jim. The door didn't budge. Dom threw his shoulder into it. The cop pulled on the outside door handle. Feeling trapped, Dom's actions became desperate until the door finally gave and he tumbled onto the asphalt.

"Hey," the cop said, stooping to help Dom.

"Jim," Dom pointed into the car. "He needs help now. I'm okay."

Dom saw disbelief in the cop's eyes so he stood. "Really, I'm okay. Get Jim help."

"Paramedics are on the way," the cop said, pulling Dom away from the wreckage. "Sit." He gently pushed Dom down to sit on the curb. "My partner's checking on your friend."

"Jim," Dom repeated. "He needs help."

The cop turned at the sound of sirens. "Help has arrived. They'll get your friend out and on the way to the hospital. Are you sure you're not hurt?"

With the amulet cold against his skin, Dom shook his head. "I'm fine. He took the brunt of it." He watched as the fire department medics swarmed over and in Jim's mangled car.

As the rescue process dragged on for what felt like forever, Dom grew restless and stood.

"You gotta sit, pal, until the paramedics check you out," the cop said.

"I'm fine," Dom assured. "What the heck happened?"

"Don't worry," the cop said, "I saw it all from over there."

Dom snorted when he saw the DoNut Shoppe parking lot with the police car parked out front.

"We got complaints of drivers running red lights at this intersection," he explained. "I was monitoring."

"You've got proof now," Dom said, turning back to the wreck scene when a fireman started a portable engine to run an extraction tool to pull Jim's steering wheel out of the way. Cringing at the groans of protesting metal, Dom sat again.

"You're cops, right?"

Dom looked up and finally recognized the cop as the same one that escorted the cursing old woman away from them at the robbery scene the day before. It suddenly felt like a lifetime ago to Dom.

"Yeah," Dom answered. "Olympic SWAT."

"It took a while to recognize you without all the combat gear on." The cop held out his hand. "Jerry Thompson, plain ol' WCPD."

Dom stood again, shook Jerry's hand.

"I hope your friend's okay," Jerry said.

Both watched as the fireman medics slid Jim out of his car on a board; wearing a neck brace, bandages on his head already soaked with blood and some kind of bandage covering his left shoulder. They already had bags of juice flowing into Jim's arm that gave Dom a small spark of hope for his friend.

After the ambulance roared off, the red, utility-bed fire department truck close behind, Dom turned to Jerry.

"Can you get me a link through dispatch to Lieutenant Harrelson's office at Olympic?"

"Uh, sure, I think." Jerry ran to catch up with Dom.

#######

"Where are you?" Harrelson asked over Jerry's radio.

Dom gave the intersection information to Harrelson. "It's backed up pretty bad here, Lieutenant. We were in the middle of the intersection. It's a mess."

"I'll get you to the hospital," Jerry said. "You should get checked out anyway."

"I've got a ride, Lieutenant," Dom said. "I'll meet you at Valley."

"Be there in twenty," Harrelson responded.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Dom escaped the doc's probing and x-rays, Harrelson and Deke were waiting together for him.

"You're okay?" Deke asked.

Dom knew he didn't imagine the incredulity in Deke's voice. "I'm fine. The truck hit on Jim's side."

"But, still," Deke pressed, "that's incredible."

"It's awful," Dom growled, frustration winning out.

"Of course it's awful," Harrelson said, stepping between his two officers. "What happened?"

Dom sighed, ran a surprisingly steady hand over his face. "Have you heard anything? Jim or TJ?"

Seeing the toll on Luca's pinched face, Harrelson motioned them all to a row of seats. Sitting first, he motioned again for Deke and Dom to sit, waiting until they did to continue.

"TJ's in surgery to remove glass fragments from his eyes." Harrelson held his hand up to hold Luca's interjection. "As you can imagine, they wanted him out to be digging – so to speak – in his eyes."

"Any word if his eyesight will be damaged?" Dom asked, dreading the answer.

"Not yet," Deke said.

"Jim?" asked Dom.

"X-rays. That's all I got out of the doctor. Nothing about his condition yet," Harrelson said, not hiding his own frustration at having two team members down due to accidents. All the training and preparations they do to stay safe in the face of extreme danger and his men go down to freak accidents – the kind that he had no power to control.

"Dom!"

All three men turned to see Susan, TJ's fiancé, rush through the ER waiting room. Dom's heart sank to his shoes. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a deep responsibility toward her, and, God help him, Sheri, Jim's girlfriend that was due in tonight. How he was going to handle these two women, he had no clue. Going on instincts buried somewhere in his upbringing, Dom moved to meet Susan away from the Lieutenant and Sergeant Kay, figuring that she would be more comfortable with someone familiar.

"Susan," Dom said, pulling her into a warm embrace. Her trembling nearly undid the tenuous control he had on his own emotions. "Let's sit over here." He led her to a pair of chairs in a quiet corner.

"I came as soon as I got Deke's message from my service." She mopped her eyes and nose with a seriously abused tissue wadded in her hand. "I was in a stupid meeting." She took a deep, steadying breath. "How is he?"

"He's okay, Susan. Nothing life-threatening." Dom nearly bit his tongue, knowing the injury could be life changing. "It was just a stupid accident."

"Deke said it was his eyes, Dom. Glass in his eyes. What happened? Can I see him?"

Dom took her hands to calm them as they nervously shredded the soggy remnants of her tissue. "The fluorescent light over the work bench exploded. Some glass got in his eyes but we got him here as quick as possible." Dom looked down the hall, seeing Doc Morgan stop to talk with Harrelson and Deke, then he turned back to Susan. "He's getting the glass taken out now. Right now."

Dom reached in his back pocket for his handkerchief – another part of his upbringing. His grandmother had said a gentleman always carried a handkerchief and Italian men were always gentlemen. He'd been tested on family visits to make sure he was upholding the gentlemanly traditions. He handed the hanky to Susan, who took it gratefully and mopped again.

"When will I be able to see him, Dom?"

"When he's out of the recovery room, I'd say, and in his room." Dom took Susan's hands again. "He'll need us for support."

"Of course." Burying her face in Dom's handkerchief, Susan cried with aching sadness.

Dom comforted TJ's fiancé as well as he could, but there wasn't much comfort to offer. He had a bad feeling that Susan was on a thin edge – and couldn't blame her.

"Where's Jim?" Susan sat up, looking around the waiting room.

"Uh," Dom began, "there was another accident."

"What do you mean?"

Dom fidgeted in his seat. "A truck ran a red light and t-boned Jim's car when we were coming here to see about TJ."

Susan stared at Dom, absorbing the news slowly through her already overburdened mind. "You mean you were with Jim? You two were in a wreck?"

Dom sighed. "Yes, but the truck hit on Jim's side of the car. I just got bounced around. No injuries." If he had to say that again he thought he'd scream.

"Well, how is he? Was Jim injured?"

The images of the mangled car and the fire department carrying Jim out on the board flooded Dom's mind. "Yeah. He was injured. We haven't heard anything other than they were taking x-rays." Dom figured that Doc Morgan was updating Harrelson on Jim's condition. From the long faces he'd seen, he wasn't too sure if he wanted to know.

"This is crazy, Dom. TJ and Jim?" She gently touched Dom's arm. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Dom held in the scream. "They poked, prodded and even x-rayed me. I'm fine – just a couple of bruises." And, Dom thought, he may have gotten those bruises at their beach training session earlier in the day.

"Oh!" Susan exclaimed. "Has anyone contacted Sheri, Dom? She needs to know."

Dom swallowed a lump that constricted his throat at the mere thought of having to face another notification like this. "Sheri's flying in now – she already had plans to come tonight. I'll have to meet her at the airport, tell her and bring her here." He'd rather be in Jim's place than be the one to break this news to Sheri. He really liked her and could tell that she and Jim had a good thing going.

"Such an awful thing to come home to," Susan said, crying into her hanky again.

Dom agreed totally.

#######

Dom got Susan settled in the OR waiting room with coffee, water and a fresh hanky he'd bought in the gift shop. He huddled in the hallway with Harrelson and Deke.

"What's the word on Jim?"

"Doc Morgan has him in ICU. He hasn't regained consciousness and seems to be in some kind of coma." Harrelson spoke quietly, as if the words hurt when spoken.

"Coma …" Dom muttered, trying to come to grips with the frightening word.

"They said there's something like a shadow on his head x-ray," Deke added.

"A shadow?" Dom asked. "What's that mean?"

"They don't know yet," explained Harrelson. "It could be nothing or it could be that his brain is bleeding."

"Oh, man." Dom paced down the hall a few steps, needing distance from the disturbing news, then reluctantly returned. "What's the prognosis?"

"Right now it's watch and wait," Deke said.

"Wait for what?" Dom demanded.

"They're repeating the x-rays every four hours to see if the shadow changes. If it does, or his condition worsens, they may have to relieve the pressure in his head."

Dom stared at Harrelson. He couldn't believe all this. TJ may be blind and now Jim with possible brain damage. What kind of curse was this and how in hell did he escape everything while his friends were clinging to life?

Harrelson found it easy to guess the gist of Dom's thoughts from the tortured look on the young man's face. "It's accidents, Luca. Plain and simple. Nothing else is at work here. TJ and Jim will recover and be back at work in a few weeks."

"How can you say that?" Dom's control slipped. "Just look at what's happened. It's crazy – I'm walking/talking proof that something is going on. I should have glass in my eyes too, dammit. And I should have broken bones from the wreck." He started pacing again. "But, no. Oh, no. I'm perfectly fine and trying to hold things together while everything around me is going to hell in a handbasket!" He flung his hands up in frustrated surrender then settled with clenched fists on his hips, grasping for sanity.

Survivor's guilt, Deke thought. Couldn't deny that Dom didn't have good cause for it. But it wouldn't help either TJ or Jim for Dom to beat himself up for escaping injury.

"What's going on, Luca, is two of my men have been hospitalized with serious injuries from accidents. Accidents that have nothing to do with being SWAT officers. Injuries that I couldn't prepare them to avoid." Harrelson rubbed the tense muscles at the back of his neck. "Accidents happen every day to all kinds of people – even SWAT officers, and have absolutely nothing to do with curses or hexes. Now get that straight."

Steaming, Dom walked away. Accidents were one thing. This reality was something entirely different. His hand went to the amulet under his shirt. It was cold as ice. He'd been ignoring it, but now, at his wit's end, he clasped it and quickly begged for the nightmare to end.

#######

The nightmare continued as Dom parked Harrelson's car in the pick-up zone at the airport. He drug his reluctant feet into the concourse for Sheri's flight. They'd found the flight information in Jim's wallet that the hospital had released to Harrelson, who would relinquish it to Sheri when she recovered from the shock of the current situation. Susan had TJ's stuff.

Dom paced. Sheri's plane was one of only three on the board that showed they were on-time. Maybe it would be better to get it over with quick, he tried to convince himself. It didn't work. He began to sweat when the walkway hooked up with the plane. Staring out the window, he wished to be anywhere but there.

Dom's sweat chilled when the passengers disembarked with no Sheri in sight. How would he know if she'd had to take another flight or had to cancel her plans to come at all? Should he go to Jim's apartment and wait for her to call? His pacing stopped when he heard laughter coming from the walkway to the plane. The stewardesses exited as a group, Sheri among them, looking eagerly around the room.

She'd worked the flight. Dom mentally kicked himself for not realizing that probability. He watched her beaming face shift to puzzlement, then a hint of annoyance. When her gaze met Dom's his stomach knotted as alarm clearly registered on her face.

"Dom?" Sheri said as she rushed over to Jim's friend by the window. "What's happened?"

Getting his emotions under control, Dom guided Sheri to a quiet corner.

"Is he alive?" Sheri asked, her voice a whisper.

"Yes," Dom answered quickly. He paused to think how best to tell her.

"Was he shot, Dom? Just tell me, please."

"No, oh God, no." Dom closed his eyes a moment to regain control. "Nothing like that," he began. "A truck t-boned his car at an intersection. Ran a red light straight into him."

Exhaling her held breath, Sheri sat in a nearby seat. "A car wreck," she mumbled, shaking her head. "Is he hurt bad?"

"Well …" Dom took a seat next to Sheri. "He got banged up pretty good."

"How bad?" Sheri asked when Dom didn't elaborate.

"Well, he, uh, well …" The word 'coma' refused to come out of Dom's mouth.

"Dominic Luca," Sheri snapped, "just tell me what's happened to Jim." She clasped her hands to still their nervous motions. "Please," she added, her voice soft.

Dom stood, paced a few steps. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet, Sheri." Dom returned and sat again, taking Sheri's hands, which clamped onto his like a vise. "I'm sorry."

"When did this happen? Was it on the way here, to pick me up?"

Dom shook his head. "No. No. We were on our way to Valley to see TJ this afternoon." Dom hadn't wanted to dump the news about TJ on Sheri already, but it just came out.

"TJ was in the accident, too?

Dom shook his head again, "No." Dom stood and paced away again, gathering his scattered thoughts. When he turned Sheri stood in front of him, her face set resolutely.

"I want to know what's going on, Dom. Everything. I need to know everything."

Before he knew it, Dom spilled the entire two days' events. The shooting, the curse, the accidents that he'd miraculously escaped, and what had happened to TJ and Jim. He managed to leave out his visit with his grandmother.

"Dom," Sheri held his hands now, seeing how distraught he'd become reliving the very disturbing events. "Take me to Jim. Take me now."

Dom nodded and they rushed out of the airport.


	4. Chapter 4

Dom stood against the rear wall of the ICU waiting room, fisted hands stuffed deep into his front pockets. When Sheri emerged after her first visit with Jim, he felt like running for the exit. But, instead, he walked over to the now pale and fragile looking woman he knew to be strong and steady.

Putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, he steered her toward the exit. "Let's go out and get some fresh air."

"Yes. Thanks," Sheri managed to reply.

Once out in a small courtyard, Sheri took several deep breaths of mostly hospital-free air to rinse away the oppressive feel of the ICU ward. She strolled to a trim rose bush and sniffed a pretty pink bloom, its fragrance sweet and refreshing, much preferred to the medicinal and cleanser smells inside.

"How's Jim?" Dom asked.

Sitting on a wrought iron bench near the rose bush, Sheri collected her thoughts. Due to the ICU restrictions, the men would have to rely on her for updates on Jim. For all the guys have been doing for her, and for Jim, it was the least she could do in return. Still, it was difficult.

Sheri shivered, hugged herself. "He's still, Dom." Unwanted, but unstoppable, tears leaked and streamed down her face. "But he's not at rest. He's agitated, I guess, wherever his mind's at." She looked up into Dom's face. "Like when you all have a bad call, it always eats at him for a while."

Dom reached for another new hanky in his pocket, but Sheri pulled one from her skirt pocket.

"He's likely in some pain, Sheri." Dom hated to say it, but he didn't want her to be inventing things to worry about. There was already more than enough; no need to seek even more.

Sheri shook her head. "No, it isn't that." She didn't think anyone would understand. "It's something different." She sat quietly for a few moments. "Maybe he's just fighting so hard to come out of this thing, you know." She dabbed at a new string of tears.

"That's more like Jim." Dom sat down beside Sheri. "That's what he'd do."

#######

Dom watched the skyline lighten from the ICU waiting room window. Sheri entered after another ten minutes with Jim and shook her head, collapsing in a chair. Dom stood by, but left her to collect herself, a system that had worked itself out after uncounted repeats throughout the night.

She'd tried to get him to go home and get some rest, but that would be impossible. He'd spent the dark hours in one waiting room or the other doing what little he could, dozing restlessly a couple of times. Deke and Harrelson left only a couple of hours ago with strict orders to call at any change. TJ seemed to be resting with the syringes full of drugs the nurses brought. Susan rested fitfully in the uncomfortable chairs and occasionally came up to sit with Sheri. Sheri faithfully kept her ten minute vigils with Jim, whose condition seemed to be in a cruel limbo. At least the doc stopped talking about drilling holes in Jim's head, which had brought images that nearly made Dom sick.

Deke and Harrelson would be back in a few hours when TJ's bandages were coming off for the first time. Dom just knew TJ'd be able to see. It couldn't be any other way.

#######

Dom found Susan staring out the window in the third floor waiting room. She looked as tired and worn out as he felt. He wanted to do something, find something to say, to ease the burden he could see weighing on her slumped shoulders.

"Hey," he said, far less profound than he'd wanted.

"It's a new day, Dom." She didn't turn away from the window.

"Bound to be better than yesterday." He tried to put a positive vibe in it, but fell short.

"I'm numb, Dom. Just numb." She hugged herself fiercely just to feel something. "I just want this to be over."

A cold chill crawled down Dom's spine. This was dangerous territory. It didn't sound like she'd meant just this current incident with TJ to be over. Could this be a cruel twist of the curse to have Susan turning away from TJ? He shook his head to rid it of such useless thoughts.

"It was an accident, Susan. It could've happened to anyone." Including me, Dom thought, and it should have.

"An accident now, a bullet later – what's the difference?"

Dom decided to clam up while he was behind. When TJ got his eyesight back later in the morning, it would make all this better. He had no doubt the stress of the situation was getting to Susan, it was getting to him, too. They needed some kind of distraction, even a small one.

"Let's go get something to eat until the doc gets in." Dom went to her and took her hand. "TJ'll be fine, you'll see. Jim, too."

Albeit reluctantly, he pulled her to the cafeteria and avoided controversial topics at all cost.


	5. Chapter 5

Returning to the ICU waiting room after having breakfast with Susan and leaving her with Deke and Hondo, Dom didn't see Sheri anywhere. He checked his watch, rubbing his far-beyond-tired eyes to get them to focus on the dial. It wasn't time yet for her vigil. A trickle of panic spread through him. The sentinel nurse wasn't at her station, rising the trickle to a flood. He rushed to the nurse's station and could hear Jim's voice coming from one of the cubicles. It didn't quell his panic because Jim was yelling in a coarse whisper, frantic about something. Dom leaned forward, listening closely.

Trip wires? Why would Jim be yelling about them? And grenades? Now Dom heard Sheri's and the doc's voices trying to reassure Jim, but having little effect. A cluster of nurses disappeared in the direction of the voices and soon the quiet returned.

After nearly twenty minutes, Doc Morgan brought Sheri to the waiting room. Dom quickly went to her and she collapsed into his arms.

"Take her to get some food. Rest would be better, but I'm beginning to think none of you believe in that," Doc told Dom. "He'll be out for a while," he said, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of Jim's ICU cubicle.

Dom nodded to the doc and ushered Sheri out.

After the third cup of coffee, Sheri opened up.

"He's reliving the war, Dom. He's never talked about it much, but I think these events were real. He sometimes has nightmares." Her hands fidgeted on the table.

"So he's awake now?" Dom tried to get some good news out of all this.

Sheri shook her head. "Not really. He was speaking but he wasn't with us, you know?" She bowed her head a minute, then continued. "The trip wires. He's called out about them at night before. And the grenades in the baby basket. Why does he have to relive that horror now?" Her voice broke and she sipped her cooling coffee. "Doesn't he have enough on him already?"

Dom totally agreed that enough was enough already – for all of them. He was looking forward to TJ's emergence from the dark shortly. They could all use the good news.

#######

Dom and Sheri joined Deke and Harrelson in the waiting area just down from TJ's room on the third floor.

"Doc went in about twenty minutes ago," Deke said. "No word yet."

They all turned a short while later as Susan rushed down the hall in obvious distress. Doctor Walton, TJ's eye specialist, entered the waiting room and pulled Harrelson aside.

"TJ has developed an infection in his eyes," Harrelson relayed to the waiting crew. "They're treating it aggressively with IV antibiotics and some goop on his eyes. However, his eyes have to remain covered."

To Dom, the quiet following the unwanted news was deafening. Sheri had already filled them in on Jim's deteriorating condition. Now this. The nightmare continued.

"I think I'll go down to the chapel and practice my first calling," Deke said. "These two need all the help they can get." Shoulders slumped, he headed for the elevator.

"I'll try to find Susan," Sheri volunteered and also left.

Dom and Harrelson entered TJ's room.

TJ faced the window as if he could see the cloudy day outside. "Dom, Hondo," he acknowledged his visitors.

It creeped-out Dom that TJ could tell who was there without anyone saying anything. "Hey," Dom responded.

"Doing okay?" Harrelson asked.

"Not really," answered TJ. His voice broke and he reached for the cup of water on the tray table. Carefully grasping it, he calmly swallowed several sips. When placing the cup back on the table, he caught the edge and the cup slipped from his hand, landing in his lap. Before all the water spilled, TJ slapped the cup across the room. "Dammit!"

Harrelson retrieved the cup and a towel from the bathroom, tossing the towel beside TJ so that he could wipe the water himself. He knew that would be important to the young man.

With yet another setback, Dom felt his shaky control slipping. He had to do something – anything! His feet were moving before common sense could stop them. "I've got to run an errand," Dom said, his voice squeaking. "I'll be back shortly."


	6. Chapter 6

Outside the hospital before he realized it, Dom then remembered that he didn't have his car. He couldn't borrow Harrelson's car for this errand so he hailed a cab for the trip back to Olympic. Although it was only a few blocks, Dom nearly nodded off in the cab's backseat.

Dragging himself from the taxi, he tossed a few bucks through the passenger window and rushed to his own car. He had to hurry before everything got so out of control his grandmother couldn't counteract it. As he drove dangerously over the speed limit he knew that whenever he'd been deeply troubled, or in deep trouble, he ran to his grandmother. She always fixed everything.

Stumbling up her porch steps, Dom pounded on his grandmother's door. It was nearly noon so he felt better about his second unannounced visit in as many days. After what seemed an eternity, she cracked the door open.

"Dominic," she said and gave him an intense inspection. "What in the world is wrong with you, boy?"

"I'm in trouble, Grandma."

"You certainly look it," she said, the sharpness in her voiced softened with concern. "Come in and tell me all about it."

After Dom's rushed explanation, the sharpness returned to Regina Luca's gaze and she pinned him with it.

"You shouldn't have left out these details, Dominic."

Her frail-looking hand gripped Dom's with surprising strength. At her touch, he found himself relaxing for the first time in days. He had no resistance, even knowing she was using her mystic power on him.

"You must tell me everything this witch said to you and the others. It's important, Dominic. I did not provide adequate protection and my kin has been pulled under another's control."

"It's not me, Grandma. She got TJ and Jim. They just don't know it."

"Look at yourself, Dominic, and tell me that you have not been touched by this witch."

The soul deep weariness told Dom his grandmother was right. While he'd escaped physical harm, he'd been churned like butter. He couldn't think straight, couldn't eat or sleep, and stress had pushed him to the brink of total collapse. So, with careful attention to every detail, he covered the past two days again, this time leaving out nothing.

"A very clever witch," she said after a long moment of silence.

"What'd she do?" Dom asked, his words slurring as his energy ebbed away like a fast out-going tide.

" 'backed in a corner'," Regina said, " 'with no way out'."

Dom shrugged, unable to understand.

"Your friends, Dominic, and you," she explained. "You have been backed into your corner until you finally turned to me – after seeing no way out. You didn't want to come here, didn't want to believe in what you know. I can see that as plain as the pain on your face."

"I'm all right, Grandma" Dom countered.

Anger sparked in her eyes. "Don't lie to me, boy. Now is not the time. You've one friend trapped in the corner of darkness, with the avenues of escape slipping away. Another who's caught in the corner of war, his own body denying his escape." She pointed her finger at Dom. "There is much to be done to break this curse and correct what we can of this mess."

Too exhausted to argue with her, Dom sat still as she did her exorcism. He had to admit to himself that he agreed with what she'd said. They seemed to be trapped in this unending nightmare – bad events followed by worse. He had felt like his back was up against a corner with no way out as both TJ and Jim kept slipping farther and farther into an abyss he could never help them out of.

Regina Luca smiled as her grandson slept soundly after she'd released him from the claws of the witch's curse. She shook her head at his foolishness. If he'd just given her all the information at the beginning she could have spared him and his friends the frightful past couple of days. Well, she was sure this was a lesson her hard-headed grandson wouldn't soon forget.

As she covered Dominic with the blanket off the back of the couch she studied his face. It warmed her heart to see deep-seeded peace replace the pinched and pale visage he'd come into her house with. Gathering her purse, she headed out to do the same for his friends.

#######

Dom woke in dark, unfamiliar surroundings. Sitting up and focusing, he realized he was on his grandmother's couch. He vaguely remembered getting there but not much after she opened the door.

"It's about time you got up, boy."

Blinking in the very dim light, Dom made out the outline of his grandmother sitting in her chair. She sipped what Dom knew was a vile brew of tea. "What time is it?" he asked. "What day?"

"It's a fresh day, Dominic my boy." She held up her hand to stop his protest. "Just shy of two, Monday morning."

"Hell … uh, heck," Dom mumbled, "what happened to Sunday?" He rubbed his hands over his face to help clear the fog behind his eyes.

"You rested, Dominic."

Wrestling with the blanket, Dom finally stood with sore muscles and protesting joints. "Man," he said, stretching out the kinks, "I gotta get back to the hospital. They'll think I deserted them."

"They are resting now as you have been."

"What do you mean?" asked Dom suspiciously.

Regina shook her head. "And still you doubt." She took a sip of her restorative tea. Cleansing his friends had taken a lot out of her. They'd been taken so deep, almost too deep. Frowning at the flight of the blonde one's girl, she had to keep sight of the overall victories. The dark-haired one's girl had a touch of shine to her, not strong like Regina's, but enough to notice. Maybe she would be open to exploring that with Regina.

Dom shrugged at her accusation. "I can't help it," he said lamely. "I gotta go."

"Go then, boy, and remember what I've been teaching you all of your life. It's important, Dominic."

Nodding to his grandmother, Dom raced out the door. On her stoop, in the dark, a cat screeched and dashed between his feet. Swearing, he shooed the cat, then, seeing it was dark, possibly black, his hand instinctively went to the amulet still hanging around his neck. Stumbling against his car, he realized he'd always have that automatic reflex to ward off 'evil'. Regina Luca's legacy, he supposed. As he drove to the hospital, he decided he could live with that.

Entering the ICU waiting room first, he didn't see Sheri but didn't panic because he had no idea if it was time for her vigil or not. He stood at the nurse's desk, waiting patiently while she finished writing in a chart.

"May I help you?"

"Uh, yeah," Dom said. "Uh, Jim Street. Can you tell me if there's any change?"

"Jim Street?"

"Yeah, he was in a car wreck Friday and was still unconscious … sort of."

The nurse looked through the charts on her desk. "There's no Jim Street here."

A cold fear gripped Dom. "He was yesterday," he managed to say.

"Let me ask Agnes," she replied and headed down the hall.

Dom paced, not wanting his mind to think about any possibilities as to why Jim wasn't here.

"Mr. Street was moved down to room three-twenty-eight several hours ago," Nurse Agnes told Dom when he stepped back to the desk.

"Moved … ?"

"Yes. He passed the neurologic exam at twenty hundred and was released to the floor at twenty-two hundred."

Dom's breath rushed out in sweet relief. Now that the shock had worn off, he recognized the room number as TJ's.

"Thank you!" Dom called as he dashed for the elevator.


	7. Chapter 7

Dom wasn't sure what to expect, but this wasn't it. After promising the night floor nurse that he wouldn't disturb his friends, he stepped into their now shared room. The equipment provided enough light to see that TJ no longer had bandages over his eyes and he looked to be sleeping comfortably. Jim's head was still bandaged and his left arm was in a sling. Surprisingly, Sheri was tucked along his right side, atop his covers, with another blanket covering her. Dom smiled, wondering how they'd pulled that off.

He settled in a chair in the waiting room, feeling light as a feather, the weight of the past few days gone. Drifting away, he remembered some of what his grandmother had said and figured she had come here and managed to apply her 'medicine' to Jim and TJ. "Thanks," he mumbled as his eyes closed.

#######

Near dawn, Dan Harrelson entered the waiting area, finding Dom sleeping like a log. Not needing to disturb his healing officers, he chose a chair across the room from Dom. Closing his eyes, he replayed the past twenty-four hours in his mind. He still couldn't come to grips with what appeared to occur.

He'd been the only visitor with TJ when Regina Luca came into the room. Half-sick from the antibiotics and heart-sick to still have his eyes bandaged, TJ was more than willing for anything that might help him regain his eyesight. Dan didn't see that the elderly woman would do any harm so he'd agreed to the curse exorcism. He'd even escorted her up to Jim's ICU ward and announced her as Jim's great aunt. Jim's girlfriend dozed in chair, so Regina did a ten minute exorcism on Jim.

Dan considered himself as far from superstitious as a person could get. It could have been the natural course of things that both of his men would've started improving almost immediately after Regina's visits. Deke, unaware of any additional assistance, felt that the power of prayer played a major role in the sudden turn of events to the good. And, of course, the doctors ruled that medicine brought about the change.

Maybe it was a combination of all three, plus the support from everyone else, Dan reasoned. There were certainly enough people working in a variety of ways for a positive outcome to the situation, including the injured men themselves.

Whatever the reasons, Dan was relieved to get his men on the road to recovery. He'd take it any way he could get it. He was beginning to learn that with this group absolutely anything was possible and likely probable.

#######

In only two weeks, Harrelson's Control Center was filled with familiar faces again. Although Street still sported a sling on his left arm and McCabe wore sunglasses while inside as well as outside, he was glad to have them back even in a limited capacity. He greeted everyone like normal and took his coffee to his office. Leaning back in his chair, he listened to the lively banter about which car Street should get to replace his totaled one and Luca extolling the virtues of bachelorhood to McCabe. McCabe's engagement was the only casualty of the ordeal. Unfortunate for the young couple, but Dan figured it was better to happen now than after the vows were exchanged. He knew how hard it was on the women who attached themselves to police officers.

Pounding noises brought Harrelson out of his office. Luca stood on a chair in front of the room hammering something to the wall just below the ceiling.

"Luca," called Harrelson, "what are you doing?"

Stepping down to admire his handiwork, Luca nodded satisfactorily. "It's a protection charm," he explained, "from my grandmother."

Everyone looked at the oddly shaped pendant tacked to the wall. The men slowly turned to watch Harrelson's reaction.

Walking purposefully to the front of the room, Harrelson inspected the new addition closely. He couldn't say he believed in the hocus-pocus stuff anymore than he had, but why tempt fate.

Harrelson nodded to Luca. "Looks good to me." He felt the stares as he returned to his office. Live and learn, he'd always believed.

#######

#######

Lt. Dan 'Hondo' Harrelson, played by Mr. Steve Forrest - 9/29/24 - 5/18/13. Rest in peace ...

#######

#######


End file.
